Once again, Lange played the part of the perfect gentleman. He was charming and attentive, remembering to open doors and help with her chair. He even stood each time she got up, which was often during the awards, given she was nominated for many of them. He was the perfect date; handsome, intriguing, and seemingly captivated by her every move. His attention just short of possessive, Lange stayed near her side the entire night, his hand always on her arm or waist or shoulder, his eyes never straying far from her.
The excitement of the evening - and of the man - was heightened by the steady flow of champagne at their table. Someone made a toast every time the Tea Party or Ashli’s name was called. No matter who won, glasses were lifted in celebration. Too nervous to do more than nibble on the elegant meal that was served, Ashli felt the spin of alcohol go to her head. It swirled down and around, tempting and delicious, twining its way through her belly, down to secret places that were now heavy and throbbing with need. Maybe it wasn’t the champagne. Maybe it was the man.
Just before the final award of the evening was presented, Ashli excused herself and slipped off to the restroom. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, noting the high color in her cheeks and the undeniable gleam in her eye. Pressing a cool towel to her cheeks and the back of her neck, she willed herself to cool down. She pressed the other hand to her abdomen, where a swarm of butterflies had taken flight. Champagne and passion made for a queasy stomach, but Lordy, was it exhilarating!
As she straightened her hair and reapplied lip gloss, a woman joined her at the sink. “Mmm, mmm. I don’t know who your date is tonight, girl, but I half expect you to go up in a puff of smoke! That man is H-O-T, and the looks he’s been giving you are absolutely sizzling!”
Startled, Ashli shifted her eyes to the other woman in the mirror. She vaguely recognized her as a manager at another restaurant in town. Seeing her expression, the woman simply laughed. “Don’t pay me no never mind, girl. I’ve done got all hot and bothered, just seeing him stare at you all night with that look in his eyes.” She laughed again coarsely as she opened the door. “My man is definitely getting lucky tonight!”
Ashli was too stunned to reply. As two other women walked up to the sink, Ashli realized they had heard the exchange, and she blushed.
“Don’t pay her any attention,” one of the women reassured her. “I think she’s had a little too much to drink already.”
Her companion was a woman Ashli knew. “Hi, Ashli. Congratulations on all the awards tonight, especially ‘Most Innovative Entrepreneur’.” Her eyes twinkled as she added, “And on the smoking hot date, too. Tameka may have been a little crude, but she was right, you know. That is one fine date you have tonight.”
“Uhm, thank you,” Ashli murmured. Let her decide which comment she was accepting praise for.
Ashli hurried from the restroom, more than a little embarrassed by the attention Lange was creating for her. Secretly flattered, perhaps, but still embarrassed. She could see their table from where she was, and saw that Lange was laughing easily with her friends. Marveling at the change that had come over him tonight, she wasn’t paying attention to her where she walked and bumped into someone.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, thankful not to have fallen off her high heels and twisted an ankle. “I wasn’t watching... Doug! What a surprise! I didn’t know you were here this evening.”
The nice looking delivery man seemed more than pleased to have her bump into him. “Had to come s-s-support my favorite r-restaurant,” he said with a nervous smile. “You’re doing gr-great s-s-so far.”
“Why, thank you, Doug, how sweet of you to say so. And to come tonight.” Her pleasure was genuine.
“I hope you win the big pr-pr-pr-pr....” He swallowed hard, then chose a different word. “Award.”
Ashli pretended not to notice how he stuttered over certain sounds. He was a military hero and deserved the utmost respect. Putting a hand on his arm, she squeezed gently and smiled. “Thank you so much. It’s about time for them to announce it, so I’d better return to my seat. I’m sorry I nearly ran you over. I’ll see you Monday for delivery?”
“S-s-sure.”
Lange stood when she reached their table. He leaned close as he gently pushed her chair forward, his hands lingering on her shoulders. “Who was that?” he asked, leaning closer still.
She should have known he would notice. “One of the delivery guys from Flour Arrangements.”
“You got more flowers?” he asked sharply.
She laughed aloud, causing the others at the table to look her way. She motioned for him to take his seat. Leaning into him, she whispered, “No, silly, not flower, f-l-o-u-r.”
“Was he on the list?”
“Doug?” she asked in surprise. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I guess I never thought about him. He’s a super nice guy, a veteran, actually, from the Iraq war. He was wounded in action and it ended his military career.” As the emcee for the evening took the mic once again, she shushed any further comment from him. “Hush, now, so we can hear this last award. And stop staring at me. People are noticing.”
“I can’t help it,” he told her honestly. “You look gorgeous tonight. I can’t take my eyes off you.”
It was true. He had tried repeatedly to settle his gaze elsewhere, but his traitorous eyes and lustful wanderings kept returning to her. Still drunk on her very essence, he could barely put together a coherent thought. It was ridiculous, the way his mind was churning thick and slow, mired with pure, unadulterated lust. Or maybe it wasn’t so pure. The only thoughts that managed to break through his stupor were downright dirty.
Up at the podium, the speaker was naming the five finalists for the evening’s grand award, “Best of the Best”. Ashli vaguely heard the list of prizes and honors associated with simply being nominated. With his last comment, Lange had stolen not only her breath, but her very concentration. How could she pay attention, with him staring at her like this? She could feel the heat radiating off him, she could feel the tense energy that vibrated through his skin. His eyes were dark and intriguing, zapping her with a bolt of electric sex.
“Ashli! Ashli, it’s us! They called our name!”
Through the steam that surrounded them, Ashli heard Rachel calling her name. Still caught in the electrical current of Lange’s eyes, it wasn’t until Rachel shook her arm that Ashli was able to break the contact of his gaze. “We won, Ashli! Ashli’s Tea Party won!”
The remainder of the night was a complete blur. Ashli shook herself away from Lange’s hold and stumbled to the microphone, frantically trying to remember what the award even was. After all the times he had denied the attraction between them, all the times he had pushed her away, his open and honest desire seemed like the true prize of the evening.
As she made a rambling but endearing speech that brought laughter and applause from the crowd, Ashli called her entire staff up for recognition. She refused to look in Lange’s direction, determined he would not steal the excitement from this moment, particularly from her co-workers. They deserved tonight’s award as much as she did, and she needed her mind on thanking them properly.
After the speeches and champagne toasts, Ashli and her staff formed a reception line, where there were hands to shake and people to greet and pictures to take. She posed for what had to be dozens of photographs, smiling until her cheeks actually hurt. Every so often, she would glance up to see if Lange was still at their table. He had finally taken his eyes off her, and was scanning the crowd around them with keen eyes. She was reminded of the real reason he had come tonight - to protect her from her stalker - but she refused to dwell on the subject. Tonight was for celebrating. Tonight was for victory.
The stream of well-wishers finally dwindled, and Ashli let out a weary but satisfied sigh. She turned to say something to Rachel, then turned back and bumped into a warm, broad chest. Before she even looked up into his handsome face, before his hands came out to steady her, she
knew it was Lange.
Just like that, the fire was re-kindled.
“Congratulations, Ashli. It was a well-deserved honor.” His voice was deep and sincere.
He had once accused her of being clueless. He had secretly thought her air headed, perhaps slightly crazy. Early on, he realized how wrong he had been, and tonight only confirmed it. She was a brilliant woman, a successful business person, an innovated leader in the community. She deserved this award and so many more.
Lange touched a curl near her cheek, testing the feel of silk in his fingers. He wanted to touch her skin, to kiss her lips, but he was afraid if he started, he would never be able to stop. His fingers hovered close as he held his breath and willed his body under control.
Ashli stared up at him, understanding the battle he fought. It was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms. Her lips ached - ached! - for him to kiss her.
“Hey, you two, I think we’re going to cut out of here,” George said from where he stood with his arm around Molly. “We’re going to swing by that new club down in Shockoe Bottom. I think it’s called Marco’s. It’s supposed to be a happenin’ place. Wanna come?”
“We’re going, too,” Rachel announced. “Come on, go with us.” She tugged on Ashli’s arm, even as she looked toward the last in their group. “Amanda? Rodney? Want to make it unanimous?”
Ashli glanced up at Lange. Even though he was leaving the decision up to her, she saw the look of disappointment in his eyes. His dark gaze told her he had something else in mind besides clubbing.
Ashli made a quick decision. “Dancing in these shoes?” she laughed. “I would break my neck!”
“Oh, come on, we’ll have fun,” Molly encouraged her. “And how cool will it be, to pull up at the hottest new night club in town, in a stretch limo? You’ve got to go.”
“Why don’t you drop us off, then take the limo on to the club?” Ashli suggested.
“But we want you to come, too! The night’s still young, and we’ve got some serious celebrating to do!” Rachel said, taking Ashli by the wrists and swaying her arms.
Ashli hesitated, not knowing what to say. The look she threw toward Lange was apologetic; she didn’t really want to go, but it would be rude to refuse. Wouldn’t it?
Taking control of the situation, Lange stepped up behind Ashli and placed his hands on her bare shoulders. He was momentarily distracted by the sparks that flew up his arms, and the way she trembled beneath his touch. Tugging her backwards against his chest, he pulled her away from Rachel, literally and symbolically.
His voice was low and sensual as he murmured against her hair, “My thoughts, exactly. You guys go on to the club without us.”
Blushing furiously, Ashli refused to look at anyone other than her best friend. The men laughed and made the sounds of teasing approval, before Molly quickly changed the subject. Rachel lifted an eyebrow in quiet disapproval, but softened when she saw the pleading look in Ashli’s eyes.
Leaning in for a quick hug, she whispered in Ashli’s ear, “I hope you know what you’re doing.” In a voice just a little too bright, she spoke aloud for the benefit of the others. “Okay, but don’t say we didn’t invite you.”
They stopped at the table to gather her purse and the spoils of the night – two ribboned bottles of champagne, another of wine, a gift basket piled high with goodies, commemorative programs, a dozen long stemmed roses, a silver plated trophy – then Lange was escorting her out, his free arm tight around her waist.
Someone poured more champagne in the limousine, but Ashli’s hands were full. Lange held the glass for her, his eyes hungrily watching her lips as she sipped the bubbly liquid. When he spun the glass and tipped the rim to his own mouth, his lips in the same spot hers had been, Ashli watched in fascination. She wanted to kiss him so badly her mouth watered, and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Lange spun the glass again, the rim still wet from his lips, and held it to hers. Over the champagne flute, their eyes met and mated.
The erotic scene was not lost upon their friends. No one in the limo was immune to the hum of sexual energy radiating off them. The laughter from the other couples was a little too loud, a little too high pitched, and the color in Ashli’s cheeks a little too pink against her suddenly pale cheeks. No one had ever looked at her the way Lange did now, with such raw burning passion. She wanted to look away, she wanted to join in the conversation with the others, but she was caught in the blaze that was Lange Sterling. By the time they reached her house, his searing gaze had rendered her a quivering, smoldering mess.
As the limo pulled away and left them alone on the front veranda of Daisy House, Lange looked down at her and asked quietly, “Are you sure you didn’t want to go with them?”
They both knew he was asking much more than that. He was giving her a chance to change her mind, not just about the club, but about being alone with him. With a nod, Ashli drew a nervous breath and whispered, “I’m sure.”
Instead of reaching for the door, Lange reached for her. “I’ve wanted to do this all evening long,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers. Her arms were still holding the trophies of the night; his were holding the trophy of a lifetime. He couldn’t pull her close, couldn’t deepen the kiss the way he wanted to, but for now, it was enough.
This wasn’t a kiss of passion; this was a kiss of promise.
In a sudden hurry to open the door and get inside, neither of them noticed the person at the end of the veranda. They sat in the shadows, watching them kiss, slowly crushing the bouquet of daisies they held in their hand.
* * * * * * * *
Lange kissed her again when they stepped inside the foyer, a quick peck of his lips on hers. He repeated the kiss at the foot of the stairs, which drew a giggle from her. Playing along with his game, she climbed half way up the staircase, then stopped for a kiss. This time he chuckled, a deep throaty sound that sent shivers of delight along her spine. This kiss was a bit longer, more than just a peck. Ashli hurried up the remaining steps, clumsy in her high heel shoes and her eagerness. They were both laughing as he chased close behind, and when he, too, stumbled. There was another kiss at the top, this one longer than the last.
By the time they reached her doorway, their kiss was long and lingering. With her hands still full, he had to get the key from her purse, and he did it with his arms around her, his mouth still on hers. Neither minded that it took several attempts to hold the purse still and fish the key from within. They were laughing and kissing and trying not to make too much noise in the hallway.
He finally got the door open and they fell into the room, their mouths and laughter still fused. When Ashli stumbled, Lange murmured against her mouth, “I think you might be drunk.”
“I think I might be, too,” she giggled.
Lange reluctantly released her to shut and lock the door. Ashli broke free and emptied her arms.
“Here, let me help you,” he said, seeing how she struggled not to drop the entire load on the dining room table.
“Thanks. All that was getting pretty heavy.” She flexed her arm to restore blood flow. “I need to put my roses in water. Why don’t you select a wine and pour us a glass?”
“More wine?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“You, yourself, said we still have some celebrating to do.” She ran a playful fingertip up his chest, then sashayed off to the kitchen to put away her roses. Lange’s hungry gaze followed her, his body instantly hard and ready.
She arranged her roses in a cut glass vase and carried them to the trunk that served as her coffee table. She felt Lange’s hot gaze on her as she bent over, the short hem of her dress exposing dangerous amounts of skin. He came quickly into the living room, carrying two glasses of wine.
“Let’s have our wine out on the veranda,” she suggested.
Ashli saw the frown that came with his hesitation. “Oh come on, Lange, just this once,” she begged. “I used to sit out there almost every night, but since the whole stalker thing began
, I’ve been cooped up inside. At least for one night, let’s go outside and enjoy the stars and the breeze and the smell of the flowers.”
She knew he couldn’t deny her. As they stepped out into the warm night, he mumbled something about the heat and no breeze, but he followed her just the same. She walked all the way to the far railing, where she stopped and looked out over the beautifully landscaped backyard. Light from the lampposts spilled over the colorful flowerbeds, and solar lanterns twinkled from tree limbs and along the paths that wound through the gardens.
“Let’s go for a walk in the gardens,” she said impulsively, whirling toward him.
“Tonight?” he asked in surprise.
“Sure, why not?”
He handed her a wine glass, stepping close to graze the side of her neck with a kiss. “I have other plans for tonight,” he told her in a delightfully low voice. “We’ll go for that walk in the morning.”
Implying he would still be here then. Suddenly nervous, Ashli turned back toward the railing and sipped her wine. She studied the twinkling stars overhead for a long moment. When she spoke, her words were soft and serious. “I’m not really drunk, you know. Not on wine. But I think I am drunk with happiness.”
“I’ve heard that happiness can do that.” Although he did not sound convinced, neither did he sound cynical. Ashli took that as an encouraging sign.
“You’ve never really been happy, have you, Lange?” she asked softly. Her back was still to him, and she knew it would be easier for him to be honest with her - with himself -if she were not looking directly at him.
“There was always something missing,” he admitted lowly. He stepped closer to her, brushing against the back of her skirt, but flesh did not touch.
“Even with Lauren?” she dared to whisper.
He tensed, but finally he answered. “Even with Lauren.” A long moment of silence followed before he elaborated. “I’m not sure I even knew what it was, until I saw you with your family. Then I knew. It was that sense of being wanted, of belonging. It was having a home. Roots.”
He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not Page 17